Necessary Decisions, A Gino Cataldi Mystery

by Giacomo Giammatteo

  “I don’t know. But we’re not leaving here. Fuck him if he thinks we are.”

  I stepped outside and dialed Coop’s cell phone, knowing she’d be pissed, but fuck her too. She and Renkin put me on this case; they could share the agony.

  “This better be good, Gino.”

  “I wouldn’t be calling if it was, Gladys.”

  “After calling me Gladys, it better be real good.”

  “I need more men. Lots more. And we’ve got a problem with the money.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  I wanted to say think about it, asshole, but what I said was, “Remember, Captain, I told you this wasn’t Winthrop’s daughter who was kidnapped. No way he’s risking seven million dollars.”

  “Then you better figure a way to get that girl without any money.”

  “We need to bring in the Feds.”

  “Renkin said no.”

  “I don’t care what he said. We can’t do this without money.”

  “I’ll see what I can do about the men. And I’ll ask Renkin about the FBI, but money is out of the question.”

  “One more thing, Coop. Winthrop is kicking me out of the house.”

  “Goddamnit, Cataldi, can’t you keep your mouth shut for one fucking night?”

  “Sorry.”

  “Sorry my ass. Figure out how to change his mind. Crawl on your belly or kiss his ass. Do something to change his mind. We need to be there for that call tomorrow.”

  She was right. We had to be here. “Don’t worry, we will.”

  Chapter 22

  Where Is Jada

  Lonny Hackett found work for the first time in a few days. Real work, though the pay wasn’t much. Nothing like what he made as a bricklayer. And it was tough work, pouring concrete for a barn floor. Hot, sweaty work. Backbreaking work. Lonny loved it. He loved the pain in his lower back and the lactic acid burn in his arms. He even liked the concrete dust lining the inside of his nostrils. And the cement burns on his skin.

  He finished troweling the last section of the floor, waited a short while then brushed it with a soft broom. Just enough to take the slipperiness out of the surface.

  Can’t have slick concrete in a barn. Somebody would fall and bust their damn ass.

  Lonny did a final check before cleaning the tools then headed home with the first genuine smile he’d worn in a long time. He almost felt good enough to laugh by the time he got home. “I hope something’s cooking, woman. You got a working man come home.”

  Lucia popped her head out from the kitchen, a smile from the old days on her face. “That working man better learn some manners if he wants to eat here,” she said, but she set a quick pace to hug him. “Good job?”

  “Just a one-day pour. But a broken back never felt so good.”

  “I might know the remedy for that,” Lucia said.

  The look on her face told Lonny it was going to be an even better night. “Now you got my appetite going.”

  “Get a couple of plates. Maybe even pour some wine. Might as well spend that hard-earned money on something good.”

  “Where are the kids?”

  “Mars went to Tommy’s house, and Jada went to get a dress with Alexa.”

  “We’re all alone?”

  “I guess we are.”

  “You think dinner can wait?”

  Lucia untied her apron and let it drop to the floor, swinging her hips. “I’m not even hungry.”

  Lonny scooped her up in his arms and headed for the bedroom, her laughing all the way. “Don’t go hurting your back and making excuses. I won’t have it.”

  “Don’t make me laugh. I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  “Remember when you carried me up the steps on our honeymoon?”

  “It’s a good thing we don’t have steps,” Lonny said, and plopped her on the bed.

  As he undressed, Lucia gave him her best mean-faced look. “If you think I’m making love to a sweaty, stinky man covered in cement…” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him to her. “…you’re absolutely right.”

  Two hours later, they finished dinner. Mars came home shortly after that, wanting to try out new jiu-jitsu moves on his father. “Not tonight. I’m a tired old man.”

  “Worn-out old man is what he is,” Lucia said. She started laughing and couldn’t stop.

  Lonny cleared the table and washed dishes, tossing a towel to Lucia. “You dry.”

  “Where’s Jada?” Mars asked.

  “Shopping,” Lucia said.

  “I’m taking Scooter for a walk,” Mars said.

  “Take your time,” Lonny said then turned to Lucia. “Shouldn’t Jada be home by now?”

  “Is your memory getting as old as you? She’s going to a prom, and you expect her to be home before the stores close?” Lucia laughed more. “Old, old, old.”

  “You don’t take that long.”

  “When was the last time you went shopping for a dress with me?”

  “When was the last time you got a new dress?” He smiled and kissed her. “We’re about to fix that. A few more good jobs and—”

  “And we might pay the mortgage on time,” Lucia said. “Stop talking nonsense.” She leaned close and whispered. “Besides, I don’t see that you mind so much what I’m wearing.”

  “I’m calling to see where she is.”

  Lucia grabbed the phone. “Don’t you dare spoil her night. We don’t need to interrupt her fun.” She pinched him on the butt. “You don’t like interruptions when you’re having fun, do you?”

  Lonny pulled her close and hugged her. “When did you get so smart, lady?”

  “It’s not me. It’s you finally catching on.” Lucia ran for the bedroom, laughing. Lonny was right behind her.

  Chapter 23

  A Fair Trade

  The phone rang at 9:30. “This is Gino.”

  “Are you still there?”

  “Yeah, Coop. I’m here. Where the hell did you think I’d be?”

  “I wasn’t sure. Winthrop must have called everybody he knew, and they all called the chief, and the chief called me.” There was a determined pause. “While I was taking a bath.”

  “I didn’t need to know that.”

  “Not what you dream about at night is it, Cataldi? Well, I got news for you, getting calls from the chief about you is not what I dream about.”

  “Yeah, well, screw Winthrop and his pals.”

  “He wants you out of his house. He wants your badge, too.”

  “As I said…” I stopped before I got in trouble then said to hell with it. “Coop, this fuckin’ guy has a girlfriend not much older than his daughter. And—”

  “How old is she?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe…late twenties, maybe early thirties.”

  “That’s a lot older than his daughter.”

  “Yeah, but she’s parading around the house in a goddamn thong.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Gino, we’ve got to placate this guy.”

  “Placate? What the hell, you been playing Scrabble?”

  “Get your mind off the girl in the thong, figure out how to placate—yes, placate—Winthrop then focus on the case.”

  I went out front and kicked a few of Winthrop’s bushes. “Two can play at this game. You got my back?”

  Long pause. “I don’t know why I ever put you on this case.” Longer pause. “Yes, I’ve got your back. But Winthrop may have both our asses.”

  “Don’t worry, old girl. I haven’t let you down yet.”

  “I hate the first time.”

  “Yeah, me too. We’ll try to make this different.” Coop started to say something, but Delgado was pulling up. “I gotta go. Delgado’s here.”

  “Keep me posted. I don’t want to hear bad news from Renkin.”

  “You got it, Captain.”

  Delgado and Connors were almost to the door.

  “Waste of time there,” Delgado said.

  “W
here was she?”

  “Cutting school with a few friends.”

  I shook my head. “Do any kids go to school anymore?”

  “It’s springtime, Gino. Time for flowers, and pollen, and cutting school.” Delgado lit a smoke. “Anything new?”

  “Nothing, unless you want to count Winthrop trying to throw us out of his house.”

  “What for?”

  “He took offense at something I said.”

  Delgado sucked hard on his cigarette. “Imagine that, someone misinterpreting your words of wisdom.”

  “Fuck you, too.”

  “Too? So someone else suggested you’re an ass?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Coop?”

  “Maybe.”

  “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know yet.” I reached for the doorknob then turned to Delgado and Connors. “But we’re not leaving here until this case is over. I don’t care if we have to kidnap Winthrop.”

  Delgado looked at Connors. “I told you this would be an education, amigo.”

  I decided that Alexa had to know something, even if she didn’t know she knew. I got Ribs to lure Scott onto the patio. As soon as they stepped outside, I found Alexa.

  “Alexa, I need to talk with you.”

  “About what?”

  “About your friends. We’ve checked all the families with similar names and came up empty. I think it has to be a friend of yours. Is there anyone they could have mistaken for you?”

  “Who are they going to mistake for me?” she asked. Then her eyes opened wide as if someone had pried the lids up. “Jada!” She grabbed her phone and hit a speed-dial button.

  “Don’t!” I said. “Hang up.” I grabbed the phone from her.

  Alexa yanked it back. “What?”

  “If they have your friend, they have her cell. If they see a call coming in from Alexa Winthrop, they’ll know they have the wrong person.”

  “Oh my God, do you think…Daddy, they have Jada!”

  I got in front of her, blocking her way to the kitchen. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. Calm down and tell me why you think they have Jada.”

  “She’s my best friend. And she’s black.” She started crying. “And she was here. She spent the night last night.”

  “What? Why the hell am I just hearing this?” We might have hit the jackpot, but Alexa was a wreck. “Okay, sit down. Start at the beginning and tell me what happened from the time you got up until you came home.”

  “After Jada spent the night, we got up and left for school…”

  I waited, breathed deeply, trying to relax. I hadn’t been at Winthrop’s house for long, but it seemed like days.

  “A friend picked me up about a block from home. Jada walked to the bus.”

  Jesus Christ! “Why didn’t you mention this earlier? Didn’t you wonder where she was?”

  “She was supposed to go shopping for a dress with her boyfriend. She told her mom she was going with me. I figured they were just…you know.”

  “You should have said something. Goddamn! A girl’s been kidnapped.”

  Winthrop and Delgado came in from the patio as I was hollering.

  “What the hell is going on? Don’t talk to my daughter like that. I want you to leave. Now!”

  I looked at him with a hard glare. “I’m not leaving.”

  Winthrop raised himself up again. He was good at that. “We’ll see about that.” He reached for his phone, forgetting the damn tech had it again.

  “Do that, and I’ll make a few calls myself.”

  He snickered. “And who would you call?”

  “I know a lot of reporters who would love to have a story to disgrace a wealthy, do-gooder black man. A lot of people down here are still like that, Winthrop.” I walked over to him. Got face-to-face. “Write that in your diary in case you forget.”

  “I cannot believe you said that, Detective. I could have your badge.”

  “Yeah, well, try to get anything you want. But the papers will soon be telling the world that this ultra-clean biotech executive doesn’t give a shit about a poor girl about to be raped, or killed, or both.” I smiled. “So what do you think? Will those articles earn you much sympathy? Think they’ll help your IPO?”

  Winthrop shook his head repeatedly. “I cannot believe…”

  “That I’d say such things?” I shook my head at him. “I’d say, or do, anything to save that girl. Think about that why don’t you?”

  Delgado stepped between us. “Let’s everyone remain cool.” He glared at me. “Right, amigo?”

  That was the signal from Delgado telling me to shut up. I did. I was about to apologize to Scott when Alexa wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Daddy, it’s Jada. I think that’s who they have.”

  He looked genuinely upset. “What?”

  “Jada walked to school by herself. Todd picked me and Lisa up, and we…cut school.”

  He hugged her, stroking her hair. “Dear God.”

  “What’s her parents’ number?” I asked. “Do you know where they live?”

  She nodded.

  I thought about calling, but that was no way to tell them, assuming the victim was their daughter. “Let’s go. You can show me where they live.”

  Chapter 24

  My Daughter Is Missing

  I forced myself to be silent as I drove Alexa to the Hackett’s house. I wanted to talk to her about drugs, how she’d ruin her life and her father’s life. But I didn’t trust myself to maintain control; besides, she said it was only a five- or ten-minute drive to their house. Not enough time to do any good. At least that’s what I convinced myself.

  We crossed the freeway, took a few turns, went over a set of railroad tracks, and into an older subdivision with a nice, tree-lined drive. A few blocks later, we turned onto their street.

  “It’s right there,” Alexa said. “Number 712.”

  I parked next to the mailbox, where I noted the car and truck parked in the driveway. “Do you know her parents well?”

  She nodded. “They’re nice people.”

  We walked up the sidewalk together, but when we reached the porch, Alexa stood behind me, almost hiding.

  A teenage boy answered the door. He was maybe fifteen or sixteen. “Can I help you?”

  I held out my badge. “Detective Gino Cataldi. Is your father home?”

  He looked nervous, but people—especially kids—usually did when a cop showed up at their house.

  “Dad, some cop is here.”

  Jada’s father came to the door, wearing a look I’d seen many times—fear. I’d seen enough people scared of the police to recognize it, and I wondered why he was.

  Is this guy a dope dealer? What has he done wrong?

  Then I remembered why I was there—their daughter was missing. Maybe, just maybe, the appearance of a cop late at night when your kid was missing could do that. That brought to mind my own situation from not long ago, when Ron was doing drugs. Every time the phone rang, I jumped, certain it was a cop calling to tell me Ron had been busted, or the hospital calling to tell me he’d OD’d. Or was dead.

  “May I help you?” Jada’s father asked.

  “Sir, I’m Detective Gino Cataldi. I—”

  “Alexa?” Jada’s father said. “Is that you?”

  She stepped out from behind me, wrapping her arms around him. “Mr. Hackett. Oh God, Mr. Hackett, I think they got Jada.” The tears came pouring out.

  I hadn’t wanted it to go like this, but now… “Mr. Hackett, may we come inside?”

  “Who’s got Jada? What’s she talking about? Are you holding my girl for something?”

  As we entered, his wife came out from the kitchen. “What’s going on? Is something wrong?”

  I had to get hold of this quickly. “Sir. Ma’am. I didn’t want to start the conversation like this, but we have reason to think that your daughter might have been kidnapped.”

  “What?” Lonny rushed to the table and gra
bbed his phone, punching in numbers.

  I moved quickly toward him. “Mr. Hackett! Please, sir. Don’t do that.”

  He stopped and stared. “I’m calling Jada.”

  “Sir, if Jada’s been kidnapped, it’s because they think she is Mr. Winthrop’s daughter. We don’t want to do anything that could arouse suspicion, including unnecessary phone calls.”

  Mrs. Hackett was hugging her husband and son both. She had that frightened-parent expression. “What makes you think it’s our girl?”

  “They called Mr. Winthrop this morning. We thought all along it was Alexa until she came home. Then when she told us that Jada spent the night…”

  “I thought she was shopping for a dress with you,” Mrs. Hackett said to Alexa.

  Alexa shook her head. “That’s what she told you, but she was going with Jason.”

  “Who’s Jason?” Mr. Hackett said.

  “Some loser,” the son said. “The guy she’s going to the prom with.”

  “‘Loser’?” I said. “What do you mean by that?” I focused my attention on Hackett’s son.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Just…I don’t know.”

  Mr. Hackett grabbed his son and shook him. “This is no time to play games. Tell the man what you know.”

  I couldn’t understand how they must feel, but I tried imagining. “Son, your father is right. Your sister’s life may be in danger. Anything you know will help.”

  He hesitated, looking first at his father, then his, mother, and finally back at me. “He’s a punk. Into drugs, gangs. I told her not to go with him.”

  I thought Mrs. Hackett would lose it. She covered her face with her hands and plopped into a chair. Her body trembled. “Oh God! Mars, why didn’t you say something? You should have told us.”

  “Mom, I can’t—”

  “All right. Enough!” Mr. Hackett reached his hand out to me. “Detective, my name is Lonny. My wife is Lucia, and that is our son, Morris, but we call him Mars. Let’s sit down. Then please tell us what we can do.”

  While Alexa filled them in on what she knew, I looked the place over. The windows had no curtains—only blinds—and the floor was the standard carpeting that came with small tract houses. The TV was an old tube model. If this guy was a drug dealer, he didn’t spend his profits at home.